


Augury

by argentconflagration



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Other, food and alcohol mentions, the ordinariness of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentconflagration/pseuds/argentconflagration
Summary: Heaven's strangest angel and Hell's strangest demon have strangely human hopes and dreams.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #08 "dream"





	Augury

An angel dreams of the day of judgment, when sin and iniquity shall be vanquished forevermore. An angel dreams of the triumph of righteousness, when the wicked shall be cast into fiery Gehenna to face eternal torment. An angel dreams of the world to come, when the choirs of Heaven shall ceaselessly sing the praises of the Almighty.

At least, most angels do.

A demon dreams of the day of calamity, when the tyranny of the holy shall be shattered forevermore. A demon dreams of the glorious revolution, when the wicked shall storm the gates of Heaven to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. A demon dreams of the world to come, when the inhabitants of Hell shall reign over all things Above and Below.

At least, most demons do.

One angel dreams of feeding ducks in St James's Park, of a little hole-in-the-wall that makes truly delicious banitza, of the barber around the corner who greets him by name every month, of a complete collection of all the times humans have misprinted the Bible, of a thousand other treasures to fill up every nook and cranny of his bookshop.

And one demon dreams of weaving through crowded streets at ninety miles an hour, of the trembling greenery of a lush garden, of shelves of vinyl records that hold humanity's most inventive music, of the flash and shine of sleek chrome gadgetry, of the discordant sounds of London at night.

They have another dream, too.

They dream of wine by the dim yellow of incandescence, of long arguments that need not go anywhere. They dream of whispered in-jokes that go back millennia, and shared glances that communicate more than a treatise could. They dream of saving and being saved, of being heroic and being precious, of granting relief from cruelties too long suffered. They dream of sleepy mornings cocooned under blankets, and of feeding each other on a picnic blanket as the Sun takes the Earth from morning to afternoon to evening. They dream of their own little eternity nestled under loving wings.

At long last, their dream is coming true.


End file.
